


These are the bones that I was born with

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Custody Battle, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Baggage, Emotionally Hurt Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Gen, James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy Friendship, Post-Divorce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26474806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: Pamela took the whole planet in their divorce and left him with nothing but his bones. And sometimes, that hurts. Especially billions of lightyears away from home, on a very special day for a very extraordinary person that Pamela took when she broke him into pieces.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	These are the bones that I was born with

**Author's Note:**

> Let's be honest, I think that Bones is my favourite. But like, can you blame me? He's just great. He's so grumpy! And pessimistic! But secretly loving and caring and gentle!! Come on! But I wish he was given more attention in the movies. Not like I expect them to make him a huge plot point like Kirk or Spock or anything, but I would LOVE to know more about his daughter and his ex-wife and his past! What was his mother like? How was his childhood! Who was his father? And whats that section on the official Star Trek wiki about him participating in the 'assisted suicide' of his dad? Did he like, shoot him or something, or did he administer euthanasia when his dad asked or it? I don't know! I need to know! So much more! 
> 
> Anyway, I had been planning on writing this ever since I wrote my first Star Trek fic, so I'm hoping you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I was going to include a few other things that I left out because I didn't want to make it cluttered at all, you know? I thought I'd make it about one single thing so it was easier to follow. I also had this titled 'Glitter in my eye' and I was happy with it until ten minutes before I posted it because it made no sense to the story. But I'm very pleased with the way it turned out. This is also my 300th fic, so celebrations for me!!

Maybe James could have been paying better attention to the date, and maybe he should have kept a closer eye on the wellbeing of his crew, but they had been incredibly busy trying to navigate an asteroid field and work around a magnetic storm that had been interfering with their communication with Starfleet, and there was a solar flare growing on a nearby star that they had to avoid before it erupted. They weren't excuses, but reasons.

But regardless of how busy he had been lately and how much he had going on, he still felt a little guilty when he entered the med-bay in search of Leonard to find it empty, the lights switched off, the machines on standby, sheets covering the sterile beds, equipment and tools resting carefully in their plates, waiting to be used. The chairs were pushed under the desks, the PADDs placed back in their docking stations, and the notes Leonard had written by hand for old-times sake stacked categorically in their place.

It was immediately obvious that not only was Leonard not in the med-bay, but he hadn't been there for quite a while. It was late at night during a relatively easy shift, and for the most part, nobody had needed to be tended to in the sickbay, so Leonard must have taken a rare opportunity to end his shift early, as unusual as that answer may be.

He searched the ship, darting from room to room, nodding politely when he was greeted respectfully in the halls by the rest of his crew until he arrived at the tiny bar Leonard tended to favour at the far side of the _Enterprise_ , the smallest recreation room that contained only a dimly-lit bar stocked with alcohol and a small round table and two chairs pressed up against the large rectangular window showcasing the speeding universe just a hand-print away, a holo-vid screen commonly switched off unless it was to watch the ancient reruns of the sports games from their home planet, the two mismatched chairs both soft and uncomfortable at the same time pressed together opposite the bar. Everybody knew that Leonard preferred that room over many of the others, and the crew had learned by now to avoid it just to give the poor old doctor some rest, relaxation and privacy.

When he arrived at the bar, the door was shut, and the status report on the outside said _'in use'_ in neon green letters. He didn't need to check to know who was in there and he pushed his way inside without knocking.

As he had expected, Leonard was the only inhabitant of the recreation room, the lights dim and the bar already in use. What he didn't anticipate was that instead of being stood behind the counter as he mixed himself a drink, he was sat at the small round table pressed against the window with a half-filled glass and a whole bottle of bourbon all to himself. He was gazing pensively out the window, one leg dangling idly over the edge of the chair, holding his glass loosely between his fingers. He didn't look over when James walked in, though he knew that he had heard him. It was odd for Leonard to choose to stare out the window over greeting a guest.

"Bones?" he asked tentatively as the door shut behind him. "There you are. I've been looking all over the damned ship for you."

Even with his face turned towards the window, illuminated by the passing nebula, James could clearly see the scowl that soured Leonard's expression. "I knew it would be only a matter of time before you came looking for me," Leonard sighed. "I had only hoped that it would take you a little bit longer before you actually managed to find me."

"A little bit longer? I've been looking for you for close to two hours," James scoffed as he crossed the room to join Leonard on the little round table, taking a moment to swipe a clean glass from behind the bar for himself before he sat on the empty seat at the table opposite Leonard. He leaned against the window, his elbow on the white sill, letting his heated skin cool against the chilled glass. "So, what's up? You've been in a funk all week."

"I have not been in a _funk_ ," Leonard muttered as he uncorked the decanter, dragging the crystal across the marble counter and removing the stopper with a wet-sounding _pop!_. "I've just been thinking."

James tried not to grin, "I don't know," he teased as he watched Leonard pour dark liquor into James's offered glass, the glugging of it leaving the bottle and then sloshing around the glass echoing around the room slightly as neither of them spoke. Leonard finished pouring James's glass and then poured a little bit more into his own, topping it up before he recapped the bottle. "You're the moody one in this arrangement, everybody knows it. The whole ship does. We talk about it all the time when your back is turned or you're too busy being in a funk to pay attention."

"It wouldn't surprise me. But it doesn't matter, because you suckers change your tune real fast when you need to come to me for medical attention," Leonard said as he sipped at his drink. "And I'm not _moody_ , either."

"You can be a little gruff," James chuckled as he wrapped his hand around his glass and lifted his head off the window, shifting just enough in his seat so he could face his friend and lean his back against the wall at the same time. "Come on, man. What are you doing in here all alone? You usually come and get me if you want a drink after shift."

Leonard shrugged, sipped at his glass, holding it from the top with his fingers around the lip like the long limbs of a spider. "It's been a long week. Finally got a break and I just... took it. Your position is too important to be interrupted every now and then by a grumpy old man in need of a nightcap."

"Hold up, I never said grumpy, I just meant cynical," James tried to joke, but Leonard didn't smile. James felt his hackles rise in fright, like the ears of a dog pricking up at the approach of a far off lightning storm. "What is it, Bones? What's on your mind? I know that look."

"What look?" Leonard hid his face partially behind his glass.

Frowning, James put his glass down. It hit the marble countertop with a rough _clink!_ "Because it's the same expression you wore when we met on the shuttle on the way to the Academy, and for the next six months afterwards," he said it matter-o-factly but that didn't make the words taste any less sour in his mouth. Leonard, for his part, didn't answer and averted his gaze until he was staring back out the window and into the star-speckled space, the warping of the space around the ship as it travelled through time suddenly more appealing. "The Bones I know would never be looking out the window like that into space voluntarily."

"Yeah, well, maybe I've changed," Leonard said unconvincingly.

"Come on," James scoffed. "You haven't changed at all in the many years that I've known you. You're still the same guy who worries about everyone and cares too much and berates me when I do something stupid but is always there to patch me up in end telling me how right you were the whole time, and you're the best damn doctor Starfleet has ever employed. I know you, Bones. I know you better than you do, sometimes, and you certainly know me better than I do. I know that somethings up with you. But you know that you can tell me... _anything_ , right?"

His heartfelt speech was followed by a heavy silence that settled between them like a fog. Just when he was sure that Leonard wasn't going to say anything, that he would sit there in petulant, unpenetrable silence as his warm eyes grew cold and he became a stone statue, unmoving and unhappy, until James got the message and left him alone to stew in his bad mood alone, Leonard reached for his glass, downed it in a few quick mouthfuls, pulled back with a gasp, and slammed it back down on the counter all in rapid succession. "Do you know what day it is back home, Jim?"

"Uh," James blinked. That wasn't the response he had been expecting. "No? Is it a... Monday? A Tuesday?"

He didn't even expend the energy to roll his eyes at another of James's foolish jokes, which was how James was sure that this was serious. "It's Johanna's birthday," he said, voice somehow devoid of all emotion and full of pain at the same time. 

It was as if the floor was cracking open beneath him and he was being swallowed up by a jagged toothy maw and spat back out to go spinning through the endless expanse of space. James felt like all the breath had been sucked from his lungs, and he coughed a bit as he tried to get it back. Leonard continued to stare out the window, ignoring for the moment James's foolish little couching fit, the look on his face hard as solid stone, but the facade didn't quite extend to the pain within his eyes. "Holy- _Bones_ ," he managed. He wanted to reach out, to hold his friend to his chest and never let him go, to grip onto him as he shook apart, to rub his back as he gave in and let himself sob. But he also knew his friend and knew that Leonard would rather volunteer to fly the _Enterprise_ before he willingly let any of that happen. "Why haven't you said anything? We could have-"

But Leonard just shrugged, like it was nothing. "What could you have done, Jim? Turn this tin can around and fly me back to Earth? There was no reason to mention it other than to get you off your shift earlier so we could have a drink."

James licked his lips. This absolutely wasn't how he expected this conversation to go. "Have you called her?"

"Nah," Leonard shook his head. "I tried to, but none of my calls got through. Must be this magnetic storm we're in, or maybe we're too far away for the transition to get home to her. Or, quite possibly, her mother is just not letting me speak to her."

His laugh was humourless and bitter. James just watched him. "I'm sorry, Bones."

"Don't be," Leonard said as he brought his drink to his lips and took a nice long swig. "I sent her flowers, you know. Among other things, but I know she likes flowers. Not so much the giant teddy bear and a box of chocolates and a little ball gown, but I sent those too just in case. She likes... hm. Poppies, and tulips, and peonies and marigolds. Brightly coloured things. Things she can braid in her hair and make her look like sunshine. I sent her a bunch of those. But I doubt she'll get them. When Pamela reads the card and learns that they're from me, she'll just toss them in the trash."

"You really think that she would do that?" James frowned.

"Oh yeah," Leonard replied. "That's probably the least she'd do."

Biting his lip, James watched as his friend took another deep sip from his glass before unstoppering the decanter again and pouring himself some more. A never-ending cycle, constantly continuing until the bottle was emptied and he'd have to stand from his seat and stumble on unsure legs to the bar for another one. "I've never met Pamela."

Humming, Leonard pulled away from his glass just long enough to say, "Lucky you," before he went back to guzzling down the burning liquor.

"I've never met Johanna, either," James said, watching as something unrecognisable passed over Leonard's face and he pulled away from his glass. "I hope that I'll get to, one day."

Leonard placed his glass down on the table, gently, but his hand was shaking so hard that the liquid bounced around inside. James wasn't sure if he was shaking from barely concealed emotion or from how hard he was gripping the glass. "Me too," he choked out before he cleared his throat and looked down at the table. Now that James was looking at him, really looking at him, he saw how his hair was falling into his eyes, how his cheeks looked sunken from too many missed meals, his eyes were red from crying, the constant shadows under his eyes were darker from countless sleepless nights, and his normally clean-shaven face was darkened by a five o'clock shadow that had built up after many days of not caring about shaving, almost the same way he looked when they met that day on the shuttle, just with a blue uniform instead of a rattly canvas jacket. "I think uh... I think she would have liked you. You're pretty similar in a lot of ways. You're both giant pains in my ass, for starters."

It was such a _Bones_ thing to say that James couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I'm sure we would get along great, then,"

If this had been a usual birthday celebration, there would be a third glass filled with liquor placed between them, and they would be cheering to her long life and happiness everlasting as they drank their drinks and talked about her life. But this wasn't their usual birthday celebration. In many ways, this was Leonard's version of a memorial service, mourning the child he never got to know and would probably never see again.

"All day, I've been thinking," Leonard returning to staring back out the window. "That if I wasn't here with you, if I wasn't on the _Enterprise_ for this five-year mission through the stars, if I had some common sense all those years ago and kept my feet on the ground, that I would maybe be with her today. Maybe I could have smuggled her those flowers, and taken her shopping behind her mothers back. Maybe I could have given her a hug so tight she'd feel it in her bones, and place a kiss to her hair. Maybe, just for once, maybe I could be the father she deserved."

"Oh Bones," James sighed. "I'm sorry. You should be down there with her, not up here with the rest of us. I'm sorry I dragged you away."

"That's not what I meant," Leonard said. "I wouldn't change this for the world. Being up here, saving your life every day and keeping the crew alive? It means more to me than life itself."

James frowned. "But..."

The look that came over Leonard's face as he turned to face him made James's heart flutter and clench in his chest. "I'm a doctor, Jim. Not a father."

It felt like all the breath was forcibly punched from his lungs, the air caught in his throat and his chest tightening at the unexpected pain. "Bones-"

"I don't need your pity, Jim," Leonard's words were hard, familiarity so, and for a moment, a pure blissful moment, the friend he knew and loved peeked through the gaps in Leonard's broken armour and James was reminded like a slap in the face how unknown this new Leonard was. "I just mean that I'm a better doctor, and I know that. I can't even call myself a father. I should know her favourite colour, her favourite food, her imaginary friends. I should know her favourite flavour of ice cream. I should know her fears, her hopes and dreams, her wishes. All I know is how to braid her hair, and how to tuck her in at night, and I've never been good at either of those things. I don't even want to think about how out of practice I am with it all now," he chuckled, but it was a bitter sound, grating like teeth on shredded ice. "Turns out, she wants to be a doctor when she's older. Takes after her old man."

"Well, if talent and knowledge run in the family, then I think we'll be in good hands then," James joked and felt a swell of pride at the small smile he managed to coax out of Leonard. "You'll get to see her soon, Bones. I'll make sure of it. I promise."

Leonard's hand trailed from his glass to his wrist, and he ran his fingers over the cool metal surface of the duo of silver loops ringed around the cuff of his blue uniform. "I just wish that I'd been able to see her grow up, you know? That I could have had a chance to be a father. But Pamela... well."

"Left you nothing but your bones," James finished, the quote from long ago, the saying that started it all, weighing heavy on his tongue and burning the back of his throat.

That surprised a wry smile out of Leonard. "These are the bones that I was born with," he stated idly as he played with the cuff of his uniform, twisting it around in his fingers as he thought, just to give his usually steady hands something to do. His shoulders heaved, bunching up by his elbows, and let out a deep sigh so heavy that even James could sense the severe weight of it, and he ran a hand down his tired face. "Sorry, kid. I shouldn't be weighing you down with all this personal nonsense that has nothing to do with you."

"Don't be silly," James rolled his eyes, reached out and slapped Leonard lightly on the arm, leaning back in his chair. "I like listening to you speak. We don't do this often enough."

"Yeah, well, we're so busy lately that we don't really have the time for it," Leonard said, hunching over his glass. "Too much going on."

"Yeah," James chuckled, wrapping a hand around his glass though he had no intention of drinking from it. He appraised his friend again, carrying a sort of quiet sadness that James had never noticed before. It weighed on him, like Atlas carrying the world, and his head hung lower because of it. Maybe the saying was true. The loudest people often were the saddest at heart. "I'm going to get you back to her, Bones. Even if I have to tie Pamela up myself. Maybe you can send her a gift from the next space station we visit, and I'll send along a personal commendation or something to kinda take the edge off. Or maybe I'll send it in my name and add your name to the card."

"Nah," Leonard said. "I appreciate it, but it's supposed to come from me, not from you." 

Humming, James sat with his spine to the wall and his arm thrown over the back of the chair as he watched Leonard stare deeply into his drink like he was contemplating diving head-first into it before he brought it back up to his lips. "Why don't you take tomorrow off? Maybe you'll have better luck getting ahold of her if you're not calling her every time you can spare a few minutes."

"You know I'm needed," Leonard sighed. "But thanks. And thanks for letting me rant and complain. You didn't have to indulge the ramblings of an old man."

James rolled his eyes. "Bones, you're only four years older than me. I wouldn't consider you 'old' by any means."

"Those four years make all the difference," Leonard replied, and James couldn't identify if that was mirth or sarcasm in his voice. "Maybe you should head to bed? It's late, and you've been drinking," he reached out, wrapped his hand around the decedent decanter, and appraised the thin layer of dark liquid within. "And quite a lot by the looks of it too. And like you said, you've got a long shift tomorrow."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right,' Leonard said despite how much James knew it pained him to admit that he was right.

"Do you need some help getting to your room?"

"This ain't my first rodeo, Jim. I think I can manage."

He hid his smile behind his glass as he brought it to his lips and swallowed down the remaining contents before he slammed it back down on the table. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, wiping the smile that grew steadily larger away with it. "Thanks for the drink," he said as he stood.

Leonard inclined his head. His eyes looked heavy, and one foot was swinging idly in the space under his chair. "Thanks for the company." 

There were still so many things that James wanted to say, wanted to do. He wanted to wrap Leonard in a hug and hold his head to his chest. He wanted to extend the same comfort and care and consideration to his friend that he showed to everyone around him. He wanted his CMO and best friend to be the one looked after for a change. But he also knew that he was more likely to drink himself into a stupor so he didn't have to think anymore and collapse into one of the chairs in the little bar or stumble his way through the halls and his way back to his room and forget all about it in the morning. Like he used to before Starfleet. James didn't like it, but he knew that they all had their own way of coping, and he was the last one to put a stop to that. Besides, it's not like he could really talk.

He snatched his glass off of the table as he slipped off the chair and used his hip to push it under the table again. Leonard watched him silently as he walked to the bar and placed his glass on the counter. He didn't want to leave yet, but though his friend was in emotional turmoil and he would much rather be here with him, he was still the Captain of the Enterprise, and people counted on him to perform his duties no matter what happens behind the scenes, and he intended to. "Goodnight, Bones."

"Goodnight, Jim," Leonard replied, sounding sad and resigned and maybe just a little bit drunker, sounding like he held the sins of the world locked away behind his chest, his guilt and pain fluttering like the wings of a frantic bird behind his ribcage. James felt his eyes on his retreating back as he crossed the tiny room to the door with his hands in his pockets and opened it.

James's last look of his friend through the crack of the door before he shut it completely was Leonard starting back out the large rectangular window at the passing nimbus, the stars reflecting in his glistening eyes as he brought his glass back to his lips, his back hunched, his shoulders shaking, a tortured sound forming deep in his throat, lifting a trembling hand to run anxiously through his hair as he finally got a peaceful, solitary moment alone to actually feel the pain he had been keeping at bay for too long.

Sighing, James made himself shut the door and turn his back on his friend, letting him deal with it any way necessary without an audience of one. It was the least he could do. And, well, if he returned to the med-bay tomorrow with a scheduled video call with Johanna, that was just a happy coincidence. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is where I got a lot of the information from including the name of Leonard's ex-wife, and it's in an official comic book and it has it's own tag on Ao3, so certainly that means that it has to be right, right???
> 
> https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki/Leonard_McCoy_(alternate_reality)
> 
> Also, this is the part of the ship that I tried to describe in the fic, but I'm not sure how well I did, so here is a link to the video I watched to get the right inspiration. The perfect look is at 0:15 seconds: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CysGBZUHW34


End file.
